Flavour of the Week
by Maybelline1802
Summary: A week in the life of Addison Montgomery. Mark is Addison's Flavour of the Week as much as she doesn't want him to be. Maddison, obviously. R&R please!
1. Sunday

Ok, so this is a Maddison fic, Addison's point of view... just an idea I had. A week in the life of Addison! Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Grey's Anatomy.

The song in this fic is called _Close to Nothing_ by _Inspection 12_.

* * *

I used to hate working Sundays. I'd grown up thinking that Sunday was a relaxing day; a day for no work. It was supposed to be a day of sleeping late, eating pancakes for breakfast, and curling up with a good book. I don't mind working Sundays anymore. It's a waste of batter to make pancakes just for myself.

I drove to work, listening to the radio. I switched to my favourite music station. A song I'd never heard before came on.

_I can't help it if I found  
__Some way for me to get around  
__Thinking that I'm still not over you_

"Coffee, black," I said to the woman working the coffee cart in the lobby.

"$1.50," she said, holding her hand out for the money I owed her. I ducked my head, digging in my change purse.

"I got it," an all too familiar face said. I sighed. It was way too early in the morning to deal with Mark.

"Keep your pennies," I told him, slapping the equivalent amount into his palm. "If you're going to buy me something, it might as well be shoes."

He laughed, giving me 'the face'. I rolled my eyes.

_Two years we had a lot of fun  
__But now its over and its done_

"Don't you have patients to see?" I asked, sipping my coffee. I shut my eyes for a brief moment, savouring the feeling of the bitter liquid burning a path down my throat.

"Just one. She's quite a pretty thing. I think she's more of a psych case though… I can't figure out what's wrong with her that she won't date me," he winked. God, he was so obvious it hurt.

"Maybe you should get a consult then."

_Don't think I'll ever feel it again  
__Cause all I ever wanted was to be with you  
__It's something I've not lately had the chance to do_

"I've been thinking about going into psych. What do you think about that?" he asked me.

"Mark!" I turned on him, "I'm not interested!" I turned and stalked down the hall. My pager went off, and I headed down the surgical wing to see what my latest case would be. I didn't look at Mark. I didn't want to see it in his eyes that he didn't really care. It's all in the chase, and I hate that. I'm better off alone.

_And now I don't mean much to no one  
__And I'm left with close to nothing_

"Who's presenting?" I asked Bailey's interns. Izzie Stevens stepped forwards.

"Anna Davis, twenty-four year old female, thirty weeks pregnant with quadruplets. Presented an hour ago with what appeared to be Braxton Hicks contractions. They've stopped now."

"Mrs. Davis, I'm Dr. Addison Montgomery, and I'll be your attending neo-natal physician. Let's take a look. Dr. Stevens, did you do an ultra-sound?"

"Um, yeah," she said, scrambling for the computer print out. Meredith handed it to her and Izzie handed it to me. I hated dealing with multiples of this amount. No one woman can safely have more than three babies at once.

"Alright," I said after I finished examining the ultrasound. "Dr. Bailey, can I have an intern?"

The woman looked around at her group of 'suck ups' as she lovingly referred to them. "Uh, Stevens," she nodded.

I noticed Alex looking almost… disappointed? "Thank you, Dr. Bailey." I said to her as she left with the rest of her interns.

"Set up the ultrasound again, and page me," I told her, "I have to go check the Kiren baby in the NICU." I left the room to check out the premature baby girl that was in desperate need of a heart transplant.

I arrived at the NICU, and once again, there was Mark.

"Mark," I began, but he cut me off, his lips on mine. I felt myself giving in and I kissed him back, but then I gathered myself and pushed him away.

"What?" he asked; confusion on his face. I knew he'd felt my kissing him back, and his confusion was justified.

"You're not going to stay. You're going to be here, you're going to kiss me, but you won't stay. I need more." I turned and entered the NICU, leaving him standing there in the hall, dumbfounded.

_All I ever wanted was you  
__I can't help it if I see  
__On some other wavelength_

She was paling, this tiny girl. The heart beat of her underdeveloped and highly damaged heart was erratic. I allowed the intern, Dr. Shultz that I'd asked to stay with her and keep her alive to take a short break while I checked her out.

The young woman returned after a moment. "She's not going to make the week," I sighed. "We've got to find a donor."

"Yeah, I've been searching, but there aren't any available," she said apologetically.

My pager went off. Izzie must have the ultrasound set up. "I've got to go. Keep her alive, please, Dr. Shultz."

"Dr. Montgomery," Izzie said as I entered the room, "You need to take a look at this." I watched Mrs. Davis grip her husband's hand as I peered at the monitor. I knew right away that at least one of her babies wasn't going to make it.

"She's only got one lung?" Izzie asked after we'd left the room.

I removed my glasses and turned to look Izzie in the eye. "She's alive now because she doesn't have to breathe."

"How do we tell her that we know she's going to die, and there's nothing we can do?"

"We just have to," I said with a sigh.

---

I sat in the gallery, watching Derek and Mark operate on a car crash victim and trying to think of what I could do to keep all of the quadruplets alive. The gallery was empty, except for Alex Karev leaning against the door frame on the opposite side.

I'd been so long since I'd seen Derek and Mark operate together. I remembered the countless times they'd come out of surgery together, laughing and congratulating each other on yet another job well done. Then, Derek would head off to check on a patient. Mark would grab his coat and drive me home.

It wasn't intended to be anything. He was just my friend keeping me company. The first time we'd gone beyond that, it was a Thursday night. Mark and I were watching an old movie on TV, leaning against the couch and eating Chinese food. Derek had phoned to tell me he wouldn't be home tonight. He was doing an emergency hemispherectomy.

I'd been upset. Mark had been there. He'd kissed me and I'd given in. It had been amazing. The chasm Derek had created wasn't there anymore.

I put my head in my hands, and tried not to sob. I need him. I hate that I need him.

_It's just that time has ripped it away  
__And when I try to let it go  
__It always takes me to a low  
__And it only goes to show  
__You're all I need_

I had a brainwave. I can't save that Davis quadruplet. She can't survive with only one lung.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to convince Anna and Greg to donate their baby's heart to the Kiren preemie.

---

"Mr. and Mrs. Davis? I need to talk to you about one of your quadruplets," I said that evening before I left.

"Are they all right?" Anna asked as her husband brushed a wild brown curl out of her face.

"One of your babies, baby C here at the bottom," I pointed to the ultrasound and then to the place on her stomach where the baby lay curled up, "has only one lung."

"What does that mean?" Greg asked, and I watched their eyebrows knit together with worry.

"There is nothing we will be able to do to save her," I said softly, feeling my heart go out to the couple. "I'm sorry."

I turned to leave and let them to process this news.

"If I lose one, will they still be quadruplets?" Anna asked, her voice shaky.

I turned to give her a sad smile. "Yeah, they will be."

Outside the door, I met Mark, already wearing his street clothes, and carrying a paper takeout bag. "We need to talk," he said.

I shook my head as I glanced into the bag. Pancakes. "Food first, talk later."

I got into his car, and went with him to his apartment, all the while thinking about the mistake I might be making.

_All I ever wanted was you_

_

* * *

_So what do you think? Review please, and let me know!  
Maybelline


	2. Monday

Wow, you all surprised me with your reviews! Thank you so much, they're really appreciated :)

I'll try to update every two or three days... so expect at least twice a week.

Here is the second part to this seven part story... enjoy!

* * *

Mondays are days that people hate, simply because of the fact that to the average person, Mondays meant the first day back at work, the first day of a long week at a nine to five job, and the first day of getting up early again after a weekend of rest and relaxation. As for me, Mondays are just another day in the endless week that really held no significance.

This particular Monday was a little bit different. I woke up to the clock radio, listening to the song that was on for a minute with my eyes shut, not wanting to get out of bed.

_Beyond the common grind;  
The 9 to 5 the dead end jobs we try,  
We try to hide.  
We struggle through the means;  
To meet the ends.  
Please tell me that this life isn't permanent._

I reached over to shut off the alarm, and touched something that definitely wasn't my clock. I opened my eyes, and promptly remembered where I was.

In Mark's apartment.

Naked.

Oh God.

He opened his eyes and they met mine. I could get used to this, waking up to him.

No, no I can't, because this isn't supposed to happen. I'm perfectly fine without him, I don't need him.

Oh, who am I kidding? I leaned over in a move that I knew would be totally unexpected of me, and kissed him softly on the lips, his morning stubble prickly on my chin.

"What, you're not going to bolt and tell me what a mistake this was?" he said, snaking an arm around my waist. A chill went up my spine when his warm hand made contact with the small of my back.

"No," I half held my breath, "because then I wouldn't get any more of that for awhile."

_Cause we don't care enough.  
So don't hold it off.  
You're what gets me off; _

_Gets me through long and sober days._

It wasn't why I was still here – part of it, to be sure – but I wasn't about to let him in on the real reason I was still lying in bed with him. "I need to take a shower," I said suddenly, remembering that work was waiting for her.

"Maybe I'll join you," Mark said, rolling me on top of him.

Ok, so maybe I liked Mondays.

---

I got to work and quickly changed into my navy blue scrubs. I looked longingly at the salmon scrubs that lay at the bottom of the drawer in my office. Those were great scrubs. Unfortunately, when I'd signed my contract, Richard had told me that I should wear the navy ones if I wanted to be 'one of the gang'.

Maybe I didn't want to be 'one of the gang'. They sleep with interns and whine a lot about who's got a better chance at becoming chief. The rumour is that Richard's stepping down… although I do think I'd be among the first to know.

_You don't deserve to be unnoticed.  
You don't deserve to be treated like that.  
(We've gone to far to be unnoticed)_

I sighed, slipping my dress off – the same one I wore yesterday – and my scrubs on. I really, really hope no one pays enough attention to what I wear (although they are fantastic clothes, and usually I wish the opposite) to realize that I left with Mark Sloan last night in this very same outfit.

Swiping my coffee off my desk, I went to check on my miniature patients in the NICU. Most were doing fine. The Koopmans boy wasn't doing very well though, and neither was the tiny Kiren baby.

"Dr. Stevens," I turned to acknowledge Izzie, who had been on call last night in the NICU with the Kiren girl, "anything to report?"

"She coded once around midnight, but I pushed epi, and she stabilized. She's been a little low, but stable ever since." I knew how hard this was on her. I taught her a painful lesson once before. But she wanted to be in neo-natal: unfortunately she was going to have to learn how to deal with the fact that patients will die under her care. I learned not to let it effect more than a moment out of my day. It was too much if I let it engulf me every time.

_Days and weeks go by,  
And seasons change.  
The scenery gets old;  
It stays the same.  
Theres nothing in this town;  
But you and I.  
So baby pack your bags cause we leave tonight._

"I'll be back to check on her later," I said. I was almost all the way out the door when I heard Izzie speak again.

"Dr. Montgomery?" she asked. I turned, tilting my head slightly, intrigued. "Why doesn't she have a name?"

I was hoping this wouldn't come up. "She was left on a church doorstep with the name Kiren embroidered on a ratty old blanket. We assumed it was a family heirloom. That's why that's her last name."

"May I name her?" Izzie asked. I watched her expression. I really didn't want to let her get attached to patients. It was bad for a doctor. "No one should be nameless. They've got to be someone. Someone that will be remembered when they die."

Hearing her say that almost made me cry. I couldn't argue with it. "Go ahead, Stevens," I said, "but I can't promise anything official."

_You don't deserve to be unnoticed.  
You don't deserve to be treated like that.  
We've gone too far to be unnoticed.  
So lets get gone._

As I finally managed to leave the NICU, I knew I'd made a mistake. "It's just you and me, Jessie," Isobel Stevens hummed softly to the infant. I knew right then that I had to find that baby a heart.

---

"Mrs. Davis, we have to discuss what's going to happen in the OR during your C-Section, whenever we decide that has to be," I opened, standing at the foot of Anna's bed. "We'll have four teams in the OR with us to help make sure that babies A, B, and D are healthy and stay that way. I have a neo-natal specialist on notice, just an hour away. He will fly in as soon as I call, and will be in the operating room with baby C to see if he can do anything for her. I warn you though, that I cannot offer you any hope. She most likely will not survive. You won't be able to see your babies right away either. You'll have to wait a few hours before we can let you into the NeoNatal Intensive Care Unit to visit them," I paused, to allow them a moment to take this all in. "Do you have any questions?"

"We've been thinking," said Mr. Davis. I watched him rub his thumb over his wife's hand, "we want to hold our daughter, the one that won't – won't live," he said softly. "We'd like to name her too. No one should die without a name. You don't need to bring in the specialist… if she's going to die; we want to let her die in peace."

I knew I had to mention this now. It felt like my window of opportunity for getting them to donate their daughter's heart was closing. Jessie Kiren's chance was slipping away. "There is an option that I'd like to discuss with you. Your daughter has a perfectly healthy heart. There is a baby girl up in the NICU who will die if she doesn't get a heart by the end of the week. If that baby girl is still alive when we deliver your children, I need to know if you would be willing to donate her heart to save the other baby's life."

This was so hard to say. I'm supposed to be the doctor, saving their baby's life, but all I can offer them is that they give their baby's heart away to help someone else's child live. It doesn't seem fair. I watched tears stream down Mrs. Davis' face. This was supposed to be a happy time, not one of mourning.

"Let me know, whatever you decide," I said, backing out of the room slowly. These moments always felt like failure.

_So we've spent our nights awake;  
Passed every small town along the way.  
Here's to bad times;  
They were the best times.  
Give up the good times,  
And we'll survive._

"Mark, why are you sitting with me?"

"Can't I eat lunch with a beautiful co-worker?" I rolled my eyes. "I see you're wearing your scrubs. Can't bear to be seen in the same clothes as yesterday? Can't stand the thought of the rest of the hospital knowing you're getting some action?"

He was so typical. "Mark, keep your voice down."

'I can't let the hospital know I'm sleeping with _you._' I mentally added, praying that he didn't have any smart comments.

He's Mark. Of course he has smart comments. "So… you wouldn't want me to yell out that I'm sleeping with you?" he said softly with just a hint of teasing in his voice.

I nearly choked on my pudding. I searched around for a distraction, anything. Turns out the choking was distraction enough.

"Don't make me do the Heimlich on you," he said; the worry in his voice and softness in his eyes betraying what was really going on in his mind. I hate that he is so caring, and yet so selfish at the same time.

"Its just pudding," I scowled. I wiped my mouth and stood up, fixing my scrubs.

"Saved by the pager," he said as my pager went off. 911 in the NICU.

"Yup, saved by the pager," I grinned, hurrying off to see if Jessie was still alive.

---

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't Jessie that they'd paged me for. Jessie was stable, barely holding on, but stable under Izzie's vigilant watch. It was Aaron Koopmans, who had a bowel obstruction. I mentally kicked myself for not noticing earlier, but I figured I could still save him. "Let's get him into surgery," I removed my stethoscope from my neck and hurried off to scrub in.

"Would you like to scrub in, Stevens?" I asked, hoping she'd like to. It was a good idea for her to get away from Jessie for awhile… I didn't want her so attached, but I think I'd already screwed that up royally.

"Um, no, I think it's best if I stay here," she said. She was totally wrong, but Aaron didn't have time for me to argue with her so I shook my head, "Your loss," and left.

_You don't deserve to be unnoticed.  
You don't deserve to be treated like that.  
We've gone too far to be unnoticed.  
So lets get gone._

I began to stitch up the tiny baby and glanced up to the gallery. I'd felt his eyes on me the entire surgery, and seeing him reclined in a plastic chair looking incredibly sexy in his leather jacket only confirmed my suspicions. He was waiting for me, and not being subtle about it either.

"Do you want to close?" I asked the third year resident that accompanied me in a lot of my surgeries. She wanted to go into neo-natal, but unfortunately didn't show a lot of talent in the area.

"Thank you, Dr. Montgomery," she tried to hide a smile as she stepped up to take control.

"Well done, everyone, thank you," I said, ducking out as quickly as I could. Mark was waiting for me outside the scrub room.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Who said I'm coming home with you?" I said, fighting more with myself than with him. Of course I was going to go home with him.

He cocked an eyebrow, and his eyes were laughing at me. He didn't need to say anything, I knew what he was thinking.

"I have to go home," I said, thinking of the fact that I was wearing yesterday's socks.

"Well, we can go there too. I don't mind. Change of pace."

"You are impossible!"

---

He was impossible. He ended up in my apartment. And then, he used my phone to order Chinese food. My phone!

By the time I'd changed and put on my favourite pair of Lululemon™ pants and an oversized t-shirt, Mark was sitting on the floor in front of the television watching the Monday night old movie and slurping Chinese noodles off his chopsticks.

"What's on?" I asked, sitting down beside him and grabbing a carton.

"_Casablanca_."

"Classic," I said, pushing aside a piece of broccoli for a piece of chicken. I found myself leaning into him as he stretched his arm across the couch, his hand brushing my shoulder. This felt so right, so comfortable, and I allowed myself to stop feeling like I was doing something wrong for just a moment, sinking into a blissful utopia.

* * *

Well? What'd you think? Let me know, please!

Maybelline


	3. Tuesday

All I really have to say is how sorry I am that I took so long to update this fic. I don't really have an excuse beyond that I've been really busy with school and work and music. Anyway, thank you all so much for your reviews, they mean a lot. I'm glad you like this fic, and I can't wait to hear what you have to say about this chapter. Enjoy!

The song in this fic is _Superman _by _Five for Fighting._ (Overplayed, I know, but it sort of ties in with the theme of this chapter.)

* * *

Tuesday is a really noncommittal day. There is nothing special about it. Monday is the day you dread because it's the first day back at work, and then comes Tuesday. You sort of float in limbo and hope that the rest of the week will maybe get better, but it doesn't really matter to you if it does or not.

This Tuesday was the second time in two days that I'd woken up next to Mark. It didn't freak me out so much this time… partially because I was getting used to it.

Well isn't that a scary thought.

I can't get used to this, because I know it won't last.

_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
I'm just out to find  
The better part of me_

Once again, the clock radio went off. I lay gentle kisses across his warm, firm chest as I reached across his sleeping figure to shut off the alarm. He slid his fingers into my wildly attractive bed head and massaged my scalp. I closed my eyes and laid my head on his chest, sighing as his fingers traced tiny feel-good circles.

Sleep was calling me back into sweet oblivion when the gentlest whisper of a kiss brushed my lips and the pull of reality won out in the end. I opened my eyes. His lips were curved into what could be distinguished as a smile only by a trained eye and his gorgeous eyes bored into mine.

I love his eyes. They're the palest shade of blue with a hint of metallic grey so subtle it's easy to miss. They were thin ice as smooth as glass with the ever present mischievous twinkle.

"I've got to get to work," Mark said abruptly, getting up out of bed and leaving me to flop unceremoniously off his chest and onto the mattress.

"Channelling Derek, are we?" I asked, slightly annoyed. Derek always used to use that line when he wanted to get rid of me.

"Don't be like that, Addison," he turned to face me; something Derek never did, "You know I've got Mr. McRae's second surgery first thing this morning."

"Whatever," I got up off the bed and slid past him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I'd forgotten about that surgery, and was slightly embarrassed. I knew he'd never do that to me unless he actually had a reason.

"Hey!" he said a moment later, realizing that I'd snuck into the bathroom.

"Sorry, I've got to get to work," I called, grinning as I stepped into the shower.

_I'm more than a bird... I'm more than a plane  
More than some pretty face beside a train  
It's not easy to be me _

"Dammit!" I exclaimed as the hot coffee hit my new Dolce and Gabbana camisole and mercilessly scalded its way down my front. So much for looking hot today and making the young male interns drool. I'll have to stun them with my intellect instead.

I fastened my lab coat with one button, hoping it covered the coffee stain. Fortunately, it did. Holding the nearly empty cup of coffee still, I pushed the door open into Anna Davis' room. Her husband wasn't there, and I was surprised to see that she was talking animatedly to Alex Karev. "Good morning," I greeted, hoping to hide my surprise to see Karev there as efficiently as I'd hidden my coffee stain.

"Good morning, Dr. Montgomery," Mrs. Davis said, with a sad smile that betrayed the false sense of happiness she'd been emanating moments before.

"How are we feeling this morning?" I said, checking over her chart.

"Not bad. Sort of whale-like," she said, grimacing as she shifted her weight upwards.

"She had some contractions last night around four, but I put her on a magnesium drip and they stopped," Karev said.

I looked over my glasses at him. This unsolicited assistance was unusual for the cocky intern.

"I was on call," he shrugged off my gaze, leaving the room quickly, pretending to check his pager.

"Don't go too far!" I called, "You're my intern on this case now." His head quickly appeared back in the doorway.

"What?"

"You heard me," I raised my eyebrows and gestured to the IV in Anna's arm, "You administered magnesium, now you're my intern." He didn't look unhappy as he ducked back around the corner to answer his imaginary page.

"Mrs. Davis," I turned back to her, knowing that she was going into labour and that magnesium can only do so much. "We need you to make a decision about baby C. You could have to deliver at any moment, and I don't want to force this upon you in the operating room."

"I know," she turned her head away from me, her hand resting protectively over her babies.

My pager went off and I allowed myself to swear creatively inside my head. This was not the right time for this. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Mrs. Davis. We need a decision."

_Wish that I could cry  
Fall upon my knees  
Find a way to lie  
About a home I'll never see_

"You needed a neonatal consult to determine that this woman was bleeding into her abdomen, and was not pregnant?" I was tearing into two ER interns over the dead body of a pretty young car accident victim.

The girl flinched, and her equally dense friend's eyes were as wide as saucers. Was I really that scary? Nothing like a woman who's Dolce and Gabanna has been ruined by the coffee demon, I suppose.

"Get your resident to teach you something, please!" I said exasperatedly as I stalked out of the room. I think it's time for an early lunch.

_It may sound absurd...but don't be naive  
Even heroes have the right to bleed  
I may be disturbed...but won't you concede  
Even heroes have the right to dream  
It's not easy to be me_

Yet again, Mark sits down beside me as I take a huge mouthful of gross green hospital Jell-o. "Rough morning?" he asked, taking a bite of one of his three doughnuts.

"Is the gross hospital food giving it away?" I asked, even though I knew that was it. Back in Manhattan, whenever I had a rough day, I would eat the gross hospital food and wallow. The gross hospital food was a little bit different now, but the ritual was the same.

"Oh, Addison," was all Mark said.

I shovelled food into my mouth at an alarming rate, and we sat mostly in silence. Mark slowly ate his doughnut, never taking his eyes off me, which I found disturbing and flattering at the same time. Or something of that combination that was enough to make me want to drag him into an on call room.

Rather than risk something like that, I settled for pointing at his last doughnut; "Are you going to eat that?"

_Up, up and away...away from me  
It's all right...you can all sleep sound tonight  
I'm not crazy...or anything..._

"Do I have a choice?" he asked as I reached across the table. I paused, doughnut half way to my mouth, to think about this for a second.

"Nah," I said, taking a bite. My pager went off. The Kiren baby. "Dammit!" I exclaimed for the second time that day. I stood up abruptly, the cold wetness of my coffee stained shirt brushing my stomach, and I realized that I hadn't changed yet.

"You smell like coffee," Mark said, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Shut up," I said, pulling my lab coat closer and heading off to the NICU to check on Jessie.

_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
Men weren't meant to ride  
With clouds between their knees_

"Her lung collapsed," Izzie said when I arrived. Her voice was uneven and panicky.

I hurried over, placing my stethoscope on the baby's chest, listening for breath sounds. I was shocked to find them present; clear and equal. "You did it already," I said, unable to mask the surprise in my voice.

"Yeah, I did, well, I did it once before, and, she was – she needed to be helped, so I did it," she stammered out, crossing her arms over her chest and looking anxiously at the baby.

"Well done, Stevens," I said, ducking my head as I rested the stethoscope around my neck.

"Thanks."

"You've got a gift, Stevens," I went on, "but you need to learn distance. That's the only thing that will take you from being a good doctor to a great doctor."

She looked at me, her face set as she recalled the incident with the quints. I'd tried to teach her a lesson she had been unable to learn, and all I'd done was hurt her. "Washroom break," she gestured towards the door, her voice dripping with ice.

I sat down in the rocking chair beside Jessie Kiren's incubator and sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to make her learn that this is how life works sometimes."

Jessie wrapped her tiny hand around my pinky finger. She was weak; her grip feeble even for a preemie. "You're not going to make it much longer, are you?"

_I'm only a man in a silly red sheet  
Looking for kryptonite on this one way street  
Only a man in a funny red sheet  
Looking for special things inside of me  
Inside of me  
Inside me  
Yeah, inside me  
Inside of me_

"We've got to get you a heart." I stood up and decided that I was going to get an answer out of Anna Davis, no matter how long I had to sit with her.

---

Maybe this whole idea of sitting with her forever was a bad one. It had been forty-five minutes since I'd sat down in the hard chair beside her bed. These chairs were very uncomfortable. I wonder if Richard knows that family members spend entire days sitting in these horrible plastic atrocities. I'd have to tell him.

"I can't save my baby's life, can I?" she asked, finally.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Davis. There is nothing you can do. There is nothing we can do," I said softly, doing my best to make her understand.

"Fine," she said, staring out the window. "That other baby can have my daughter's heart."

"Thank you, Mrs. Davis," I said, sitting forward slightly. "That means so much."

"Under one condition," she said softly.

God I hate conditions.

"I want to meet this baby."

"We can't move her from the NICU right now. She'll die," I protested, even though I knew there was only one way to get this baby a heart. "We can't move you either, or you'll go into labour again."

She sighed, the type of sigh that is more an attempt to not cry than anything else.

"But, I think I can arrange something."

_I'm only a man  
In a funny red sheet  
I'm only a man  
Looking for a dream_

"She's so small," Anna gasped, reaching from her stretcher into the incubator in the NICU.

"Yeah, she is," I smiled. "But she's a fighter. The fact that she's survived this long with the heart she has is a miracle in itself."

"And I'll save her?" Anna asked, turning her head to look at me as she withdrew her hand from the incubator.

"Yes, you'll save her."

_It's not easy to be me_

"I'm glad you're here, Mark," I closed my eyes and breathed in the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of hospital and scrub room soap.

"I'm glad I'm here too," he said, kissing me on the forehead and brushing my hair out of my face.

"It's been a long day."

"What? Really? I never would have guessed," Mark feigned shock as he pulled the blankets closer around us. "I actually thought you _liked_ hospital food."

* * *

So while not all of my chapters have a theme, this one definitely did. General idea of feeling helpless and struggling to overcome that.

R&R please,  
Maybelline


	4. Wednesday

Thank you everyone for the reviews :) I'm really sorry that I haven't been updating. I'm so busy with school right now that I only really have time to write on weekends, so this is turning into a much longer project than I'd anticipated. At any rate, I'll try _really _hard for an update once a week. Until then, here's Wednesday.

(Monday's song was _Count Yourself In_ by Ten Second Epic. Today's song is _It's Beginning to Get to Me _by Snow Patrol)

Enjoy!

_

* * *

I want something  
__That's purer than the water  
__Like we were_

"Shut it off!" Mark groaned when the alarm went off the next morning.

"You do it, you're closer," I mumbled, digging my palms into my eyes and watching the blue and green swirlies dance around.

There was a crash as the alarm hit the floor and Mark swung himself out of the bed. I opened my eyes to see my alarm clock in several pieces on the floor. "Hey!" I shouted as the bathroom door slammed behind him and I heard the lock click. "What's wrong with you?!" I yelled as I picked up the pieces of my clock and set them on the table. I was greeted with silence. I'd always thought it was just Derek that had the temper.

_It's not there now  
__Ineloquence and anger  
__Are all we have_

"You owe me a clock," I said when he came out of the bathroom a half hour later. I was sitting on the end of the bed with my arms crossed and giving him the grumpiest look I could muster - which wasn't difficult. My clock was in four pieces and it was relatively early morning.

"You're a world renowned surgeon, Addison. I think you have enough money to replace a ten dollar clock," he said distractedly.

The fact that he wasn't giving this his full attention concerned me. 'You shouldn't be concerned unless they don't care enough to argue,' some random person once said. I can't remember who, although I guess their advice has stuck in my head.

_Like Saturn's rings  
An icy loop around me  
Too hard to hold_

"That's not the point, Mark!" I exclaimed, "You broke my clock. I want to know what's made you so mad already this morning that you would break my clock!" Now that I was saying it, it sounded stupid. I don't even think I paid for that clock; I think I won it at some convention or another.

Mark looked at me and sighed, "I'm sorry about your clock, Addison," he came over, brushed my hopelessly tangled hair out of my face and kissed me softly. "I can't tell you why I'm mad because you'll tell me it's a stupid reason to be mad, and then we'll fight… I don't want that." With that, he picked up his briefcase and left my apartment.

"You can't just say that and leave!" I exclaimed. I picked up a small plastic piece of my clock and threw it at the door. It made a satisfying clack as it hit first the door and then the floor.

_Lash out first  
At all the things we don't like  
Or understand_

When I arrived at work an hour later, Mark was standing in front of the OR board and laughing at something with Dr. Stevens. An hour ago he was breaking clocks, and now he's laughing.

With an intern.

What is the world coming to?

"Dr. Stevens!" I said brightly, competing with Mark for who can be the most happily out of character. "How is Jessie Kiren doing?"

The tone of the conversation changed instantly.

"She's hanging on by a thread. I just got here, but her heart stopped twice more last night and they're starting to worry about the amount of epi they've been pushing."

I sighed, "The nurses don't know what they're talking about. I love them, we need them, but until I say it's too much epi, it's never too much epi. Right now, if we can keep that baby alive, that's all that matters."

Mark caught my eye and offered a small smile before I turned to go check up on the NICU.

_And it's beginning to get to me  
That I know more of the stars and sea  
Than I do of what's in your head  
Barely touching in our cold bed_

"Her pressure's been dropping since last night," a nurse said as I picked up Jessie's chart.

"With the amount of epi you've been pushing, it shouldn't be. It should be increasing, if anything," I said, scanning through the notes and checking the monitors. I quickly came to the only possible conclusion.

"Stevens, if she doesn't get a heart within the next twenty four hours, she's going to die." My pager went off as I spoke, saving me having to look at the expression on Izzie's face.

"How is she?" I asked Karev as I hurried into Anna Davis' room. She was pale and sweating.

"Late decals in baby A," he said, adjusting her IV, "we've got to get her into surgery right now."

"Why didn't you page me?!" I started to get angry. He was compromising the life of our patient.

"Well I did page you. I paged you before there were late decals. They just started."

"Not good enough Karev. Go let the OR know we're coming. Then, page Dr. Stevens and tell her to prep the Kiren baby for her heart transplant, and page Dr. Burke and tell him to meet us in OR 2," I focused on Anna as I prepared her to be transported, "It'll be alright Mrs. Davis. Your girls are going to be fine."

I held Anna's hand as the orderlies wheeled her down the hall. Mark was standing beside the OR board still idly sipping his coffee. He glanced at first me, then my patient, and then back to the board before raising his eyebrows. He held out his coffee and I took it as we passed. I was going to need caffeine to get through this surgery.

_Are you beginning to get my point  
They're always fighting with aching joints  
It's doing nothing but tire us out  
No one knows what this fight's about_

I looked up into the gallery as I allowed Alex Karev to cut the cord on Baby C, the final quad to enter the world. Mark was standing up there, as I knew he would be. It's as if the guy never does any work around here, yet his department brings in the highest revenue.

Alex hooked Baby C up to a ventilator while various OBG-YN residents cleaned and swaddled the other three babies. "We've got to keep enough oxygen in the body," I said as I removed my gloves, "Why, Dr. Karev?"

"If there's no oxygen, the brain will die and the heart won't beat, rendering it useless for transplant." Even though it was an easy question, I found myself impressed with his precise, calculating response. Izzie Stevens could learn from him.

_The answer phone  
The lonely sound of your voice  
Frozen in time _

Dr. Stevens was already waiting in the next OR with Jessie Kiren. She and Dr. Burke had her chest cracked already, and were waiting on this baby's heart. I avoided eye contact with Dr. Stevens who reminded me so much of myself. Too attached to her patient, I worried what she would do if the transplant failed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her exchange a glance with Karev, and to my surprise, she smiled

I shut my eyes and inhaled as the new surgical gloves were snapped against my wrists. "Scalpel," I demanded.

I hate transplants. While it's amazing for the recipient and I'm giving them life, I'm also usually killing someone else; a helpless baby that hasn't done anything wrong. It always makes me so sad, and I question why I became a doctor. I paused, handing the scalpel and pickups to Dr. Burke.

Looking up into the gallery I see Mark, yet again. "Stalker," I mouth.

"You wish," he mouthed back, turning and leaving the gallery.

_I only need  
The compass that you gave me  
To guide me on_

Then, of course, I remember it's because I don't perform transplants nearly as often as I save lives.

_And it's beginning to get to me  
That I know more of the stars and sea  
Than I do of what's in your head  
Barely touching in our cold bed_

"So how is she?" Izzie asked, coming into the neonatal care unit that night after the surgery.

"She's doing alright. She's a premature infant that's just had major surgery. She's doing as well as can be expected," I said, removing my glasses and shutting the chart. Her forehead creased in concern, and I hated watching the way she fidgeted with the hem of her scrubs. "Stevens, go home."

"But someone needs to watch her –"

"You know how many people there are in this hospital that can watch her. Go home, right now."

"But –"

"Izzie, go."

She turned and left the room, looking distinctly annoyed with me and close to tears. I sighed and reached into the incubator, letting Jessie grip my pinky finger. She was strong. She'd be just fine. "What am I going to do with her?" I asked.

_Are you beginning to get get my point  
They're always fighting with aching joints  
It's doing nothing but tire us out  
No one knows what this fight's about_

Mark met me in my office with a box wrapped in pretty matte purple paper that glinted with silver specks that peaked my curiosity. We headed towards the elevator in silence, and at the last moment, I turned towards the stairs. I was not in the mood for an awkward elevator ride.

Not after performing the surgery where I killed a baby, and had to care for her mother and three sisters.

Not after watching Izzie Stevens hide tears she was crying over a patient.

Not after stressing about what was wrong with Mark. He broke my fucking clock.

_It's so thrilling but also wrong  
Don't have to prove that you are so strong  
Cos I can carry you on my back  
After our enemies attack_

Suddenly, he pressed me against the wall in the stairwell.

"Mark," I exclaimed, shocked and confused. I could feel his body press against mine, and I struggled to look up into his eyes. When our eyes finally met, I was stunned to see that the mischievous twinkle was absent and the icy surface had melted, revealing far more than I'd ever known was there.

"Addison," he breathed, and it sounded like he was struggling to get the words out. "I love you. I love you, and it's driving me crazy. You drive me crazy. I don't have control of myself and I can't handle it. That's why I broke your stupid clock. I was so frustrated that here I was, waking up next to you and then I found myself wanting to do this for the rest of my life. I'm not that person, Addison, and I don't know how to deal with this."

He released me from my prison between him and the wall, and I just stared at him for a moment. I could not believe he'd said that. I didn't know how to comprehend it.

_I tried to tell you before I left  
But I was screaming under my breath  
You are the only thing that makes sense  
Just ignore all this present tense_

I stepped forwards and I kissed him. He immediately kissed me back, not the hard, controlling kiss that it usually was, but a gentle kiss filled with so much love it left me breathless.

I was so wrapped up in this instant that I almost didn't hear the sob coming from somewhere below us in the stairwell. Mark and I peered over the edge, and there, sitting on the top step was Alex, cradling a sobbing Izzie in his arms.

The intensity of the previous moment lost, we both tried to speak at the same time. "Uh, this is for you," he thrust the purple box towards me as I muttered something about interns being too emotional.

Mark held out his hand, "Let's go home." I bit my lip, and took his hand, stifling a giddy grin.

_We need to feel breathless with love  
And not collapse under its weight  
I'm gasping for the air to fill  
My lungs with everything I've lost_

"Addie?" Mark whispered as he stroked my hair that night.

"Yeah?" I said into the darkness.

"I hope you like your new clock."

I smiled.

* * *

So, this chapter really didn't end where I'd intended it to. Sometimes these characters just write themselves. Anyway, please tell me what you think. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Maybelline


	5. Thursday

Wow, thank you everyone for your reviews. You rock my socks. D This is me, apologizing for taking so long to update... so much for spring break: I ended up working way too much for my liking. So, here it is (finally). Enjoy! Ok... I think this is the fourth attempt at getting this chapter up...

The song is _Right Kind of Wrong_ by Leann Rimes.

* * *

I woke up to the pitter-patter of rain outside and pulled the covers up over my head. Sometimes, Seattle just drove me nuts. I glanced over at the clock. The alarm was going to go off soon.

Right about…

Now.

_Know all about  
About your reputation  
And how it's bound to be a heartbreak situation_

Mark grunted and swatted at the clock. "Careful!" I said, "You wouldn't want to break it. Then you'll owe me _another _clock." I gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, and he smiled into them.

"It's too early in the morning," he said.

I pouted. "Too early in the morning for sex? You? Really?"

He laughed. I love it when he laughs. "No, too early for cheesy country music."

Oh. Right. It's _never _too early for sex if you're Mark.

He kissed my shoulder, running one hand up my bare leg and teasing under the oversized shirt I was wearing. I sighed, pressing my body into him and kissing him a kiss not unlike the breathtaking one we'd shared the night before in the stairwell.

_But I can't help it if I'm helpless  
Every time that I'm where you are  
You walk in and my strength walks out the door_

"We've got to go to work," I mumbled as he teased my shirt up over my head, kissing my warm skin as he went.

"This," he said in between kisses, "was all" – kiss – "your" – kiss – "idea."

"Mm…" was all I could manage. It was moments like this when I couldn't tell if it was love or lust. But I hadn't forgotten last night.

It was definitely not lust.

_Say my name and I can't fight it any more  
Oh I know, I should go  
But I need your touch just too damn much_

His kisses intensified, and he leaned over me; his bare chest pressing against my own. I thought the words 'I love you' over and over again. I couldn't say them yet. It sounded too real; too scary. I knew I loved him. But he didn't need to know that quite yet.

_Loving you… that isn't really something I should do  
I shouldn't want to spend my time with you  
Well I should try to be strong  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong_

'_BEEP BEEP BEEP'_

"Fucking pager!" Mark said, hitting his hand on the mattress, sending shockwaves across the bed. He reached across me to see whose pager was going off. I sighed and shut my eyes, praying to whoever would listen that it was not my pager. Plastics patients could wait. Babies generally could not.

"It's yours," Mark said, obviously annoyed. "911." I pounded my fists against the mattress in frustration before swinging my unwilling body out of bed. "See you later," he grinned. He exaggerated stretching out and placing his arms behind his head, watching me get dressed and twist my hair into a loose knot at the back of my head.

I studied my reflection in the mirror. Sometimes it amazed me that I could look so incredibly fabulous with so little effort. Other times it astounded me just how much effort looking fabulous took. Thursday must be the day when it takes no effort at all.

"You were born beautiful, babe," Mark said laughing, as if reading my thoughts.

"I know," I called from the bathroom as I squeezed the gooey toothpaste onto my plastic pink toothbrush.

As I grabbed my bag and headed out the door he chose to comment, "Now if only you could get ready that quickly _every_ morning."

_It might be a mistake –  
A mistake I'm making  
But what your giving I am happy to be taking  
Cause no one's ever made me feel  
The way when I'm in your arms_

"What's going on?" I asked as I entered the mild chaotic atmosphere that had currently settled in the NICU.

"She keeps going into v-fib. Her heart isn't going to be able to take this much longer," I heard the rising panic in Izzie Stevens' voice.

"You, out," I pointed to the door. It was too bad. I could have used her skill if she wasn't so attached.

"But –" she tried to protest.

"Stevens, you're under my direction. I am telling you to get out of the NICU, now get out of the NICU!"

I didn't acknowledge the door as it clicked shut, and focused solely on the baby. "Epi?" I asked the nurse.

"Dr. Stevens already pushed five milligrams."

I sighed, hating to risk intracranial haemorrhaging, "Point one of ecmo, please." Almost immediately, Jessie stabilized. I pressed my stethoscope to her tiny chest, heaving with the struggle for life. "Breath sounds equal, she's stable. Page me at the first sign of any change."

Izzie was nowhere in sight when I exited the NICU. It's for the best, I supposed, though I would really have liked to talk to her. I poked my head back in the door, "Page me if Izzie Stevens shows up, please." The nurse nodded, and I continued on down the hall, enjoying the familiar clack-clack of my new Prada heels.

When in doubt, buy new shoes.

"How are we this morning, Anna?" I asked as I entered her room. She smiled; a true smile that made me smile too.

"I'm good – great, in fact. Greg's coming by later and we're going to visit them."

"That's excellent!" I was truly happy for her. Seeing her this happy because of her babies made me wonder for the thousandth time what my life would have been like if I'd kept mine – Mark's… our baby.

Our baby. That was definitely a bizarre concept. But Mark would make a terrible father, I told myself over and over again.

"How are you feeling?" I asked distractedly as I flipped through her chart.

"Sore," she admitted. There was a pause and a silence filled the room. By the sudden cloudiness in her eyes, I knew what was coming next. "How is the – the baby that got Kara's heart?"

"You named her Kara?" I asked, smiling sadly.

"Yeah. It was the name we'd picked out. It was my favourite name," she sighed.

"Well, she's fighting still. We're still in the crucial stage. Another twenty-four hours and we'll be able to know for sure." After a moment, I added, "would you like to visit her again?"

_They say your something I should do without  
They don't know what goes on  
When the lights go out  
There's no way to explain  
All the pleasure is worth all the pain_

"She's going to live," Anna said, almost forcefully.

"Yeah, she will," I said, lifting the lid of the incubator so that Anna could hold Jessie's hand.

"I'm glad that Kara could save her," Anna said looking up at me, her eyes cloudy with tears.

"Me too," a voice said from behind. We both turned around, and there was Izzie, standing with Alex at the doorway.

"Your husband is looking for you," Alex said, looking past me and speaking directly to Anna.

"Ok," she said, attempting to roll herself to the door. I stopped her.

"You're in no shape to be doing that. You'll rip your stitches," I waved Alex over, "Karev, take her to see Mr. Davis."

Alex wordlessly swooped over to grip the handles of the wheelchair and remove her from the NICU. Izzie took one look at me and quickly busied herself with the chart of a baby I was sure she'd never seen before.

"You shouldn't be afraid of me," I said.

"I'm not," her voice was clipped.

"Izzie, you're off the Kiren case," I said, avoiding the use of Jessie's name.

"What?! Why?!" she exclaimed loudly enough to make Jessie start to cry.

"You're too attached," I said, placing a hand on my hip.

"What?" she laughed, "I am not too attached. She's a patient just like any other."

"Except that she's not," I said. "She's not just any other patient to you, Izzie. You named her. You spend more time in the NICU than anywhere else. When was the last time you were in surgery?" I hadn't intended to argue with her, but I had to make her understand.

"I operated yesterday," she said.

"Yeah, you did; on Jessie. Any other surgeries since she got admitted?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"No," she said after a moment, "but it's only been what? Three days?"

"Five."

"That's not that big a deal," she countered, "It's been a slow week."

"Actually, it hasn't been. It's been really busy. Stevens, you're a surgeon. You operate. That's what you do. Now, get out of the NICU right now and go find an emergent surgery to scrub in on."

"I haven't done anything wrong –"

"Go!"

_Loving you; that isn't really something I should do  
I shouldn't want to spend my time with you  
Well I should try to be strong  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong_

"Callie, I feel like a horrible person," I set my tray down almost violently on the cafeteria table next to my friend.

"Hello to you too. Is that normally how you greet people after a week of absence?" she said, setting down her book.

"It hasn't been a week. Ok, maybe it has. But that's not my point."

"Oh, so you have a point. Let's hear it then."

"I kicked Izzie off a case."

"What'd she do wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ok, I'm confused. You just… felt like being mean to some unsuspecting intern?"

I rolled my eyes, "She's just too attached. The patient was abandoned, so it had no name. Stevens named it."

"Oh. So, you think by just not letting her near it you'll fix the problem?"

"Well when you put it like that, it _really _makes me sound like a horrible person," I scowled into my chicken caesar wrap.

"You're not a horrible person," she reassured me with a half smile.

"Well what should I do? She's incredibly talented, but I don't know what I'm going to do about her being so attached."

"Maybe you should just let it be."

_I should try to run but I just can't seem to  
'Cause every time I run your the one I run to  
Can't do without what you do to me,  
I don't care if I'm in to deep_

Emergency C-Sections. I'd performed them so many times I could practically do them in my sleep. I bit my lip as I gently pulled a wailing baby out of his mother's retracted uterus. "Be careful with the retractor, Dr. McGuire. You don't want to tear the uterine wall."

"Yes, Dr. Montgomery," the nervous intern said, shifting his weight.

I was saddened to see what the patient's OB clearly hadn't noticed. This baby had a cleft pallet. I handed him to the OB, Dr. Redshaw, to take care of and turned to sew the mother back up.

It was never fair, the people who had to struggle through difficult deliveries and painful disfigurements. As doctors, we do our best to help, but there's only so much that we can do.

"Mark," I said when I finally found him coming out of OR 3, "I could use you on a consult."

"Since when do babies want face lifts?"

I rolled my eyes, "It's a cleft pallet, Mark. Please try and be a little bit human."

Ok, so that was a little harsh.

"You know, on second thought, I think I'll wait for tomorrow. I'll let the mother have a day's happiness with her child before I subject them to you and your smart remarks."

"Hey! I promise: no smart remarks," he said, holding up his hands.

"All the same, I'd still like to wait until tomorrow. We'll have a better idea of what's going on."

"Sure," he said, shrugging. It clearly didn't matter to him. I turned to leave but he grabbed my arm. "I happen to know there's an empty on-call room just down the hall. Why don't we pick up where we left off?"

_I know all about,  
Yea about your reputation  
And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation  
But I can't help it if I'm helpless  
Every time that I'm where you are_

Within seconds of the door clicking shut behind us, he had me pressed up against the wall, his hands already working their way under my scrub top to tease my skin. He parted my lips with his tongue; flicking the roof of my mouth and making me shiver with the tickling sensation.

I pulled at his own scrub top, running my hands down the perfect eight-pack. "Where do you find the time to work these out?" I asked.

"Just born this hot, babe," he smirked.

"You're so full of yourself."

He paused. "Does it turn you on?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Perhaps," I replied as flirtatiously as I could manage without feeling foolish.

"Well then yes, I am full of myself."

"Shut up," I said, pressing my lips against his once more.

His thumbs brushed my hipbones, making me squirm. I drew lazy spirals down his spine; I knew it drove him crazy.

"I love you," he whispered as he kissed the soft spot right below my ear.

"I know."

_You walk in and my strength walks out the door  
Say my name and I can't fight it any more  
Oh I know, I should go  
But I need your touch just too damn much_

Stir fry sizzled in the pan on the stove. "Smells good," Mark said, coming into the kitchen. It was nine o'clock and I was starving, so I'd decided to make myself some food. Unfortunately, bizarre midnight snack cravings are often inconvenient to make, so I am, for once cooking.

"Yeah it does," I said, making a conscious effort not to drool all over the noodles. Mark slid his arms around me, kissing my neck as I pushed around the vegetables making sure they were cooked. "Stop trying to seduce me," I laughed, wiggling out of his embrace and reaching for plates.

"Well, if you're going to feed me, I might have to for a moment."

I spooned some stir fry onto my plate and carried it to the small table in the corner. He followed me and sat down, scraping his chair along the linoleum. I took a bite, slurping the hot oriental noodles into my mouth, glancing up at Mark as one hit my nose. Our eyes met and he started to laugh. I frowned for a moment, but then I started to laugh too.

I wish life was always like this. Sharing dinner with someone and laughing over something stupid every night. Perhaps it's only on Thursdays.

_Loving you; that isn't really something I should do  
I shouldn't want to spend my time with you  
Well I should try to be strong  
But baby you're the right kind of wrong_

_Yeah baby you're the right kind of wrong.

* * *

_

Sooo what'd you think? I'm having a bit of an issue with Izzie, so I'm sorry if that seemed weird. I know where she's going though, so next chapter will be better in that respect.

May


	6. Friday

I can only apologize for the extreme amount of time between updates. Hope you enjoy the chap :)

The song is "The Sound Of" by Jann Arden.

* * *

An insistent beeping woke me from what was a most delicious sleep. I reached for my alarm clock, but realized it wasn't even turned on. I opened my eyes and realized Mark wasn't in bed with me. Sitting up quickly, I realized that it was the fire alarm. Something was burning. I bolted into the kitchen, the cold air tugging on my skin and telling me to get back into the bed where everything was warm and safe.

I couldn't help but laugh.

Mark was jumping up and down, waving a dish towel in front of the fire alarm and swearing creatively under his breath. I snorted and he spun around, "Sorry, Addison. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Are you trying to burn my apartment down? Because if you are, I'm glad I'm awake."

Mark looked flustered. "I was trying to make breakfast for you," he muttered as the alarm stopped going off. I picked up the spatula and poked at what was supposed to be breakfast. A blackened, shrivelled egg emitted a foul odour that made me want to gag. I suppressed the impulse because I figured it would hurt him.

"Well, at least we know the smoke detector works," I grinned. I kissed him lightly, giving him a hug.

_No I will not lay down  
I will not live my life like a ghost in this town  
I am not lonely swear to God I'm just alone_

"I thought I told you that you're off the case," I sounded annoyed. Izzie Stevens was yet again in the NICU, sitting in the rocking chair she'd inhabited for the past week.

I waited for a response, eyebrows raised. "I'm not off the case," she said after I watched her take a breath. Now, I watched her tense up as she prepared for what I had to say next.

"I'm your attending. If I say you're off the case, you're off the case. You don't have a choice in the matter."

"Actually, I do. You kicked me off the case for what? _Caring_? So basically, you're telling me that if I _care _about my patients, I won't make a good doctor. _Seriously_?"

I was taken aback at this offensive attitude. "Izzie, I'm trying to teach you distance. You will be a better doctor for it. You can care and keep your distance at the same time."

"Maybe I can't. Maybe I'm not supposed to. I just don't see why it matters to you. It's not your job to tell me what kind of doctor I'm supposed to be."

"No, it's my job to make you the best doctor you can be, and part of that is teaching you how to keep your distance. You cannot make decisions rationally; be on the top of your game if you're so attached to the patients."

"How do you know that I won't be able to do that? Maybe I'll be a better doctor for it!" she began to raise her voice.

"Izzie," I said softly, hoping she'd get the hint that we shouldn't disturb the babies. "The reason I'm fighting you so hard on this isn't because I think you're wrong, but because I went through it too when I was an intern. And you know what? I'm a better doctor for it now. It's far easier for me to keep a clear head in the OR. I'm not so concerned about how sad I'll be if the baby dies and I'm able to focus on keeping it alive."

Ok, so this wasn't entirely true. Sometimes I still got attached. I couldn't help it. I'm only human. But it was mostly true… so I figured it was ok to tell her that. I just needed her to understand.

"Unless you're willing to try and detach yourself, I'm not letting you back on this case," I said, definitively ending the conversation.

For the second time in two days, she stormed out of the NICU.

_I__'m back on my feet  
I can just close my eyes and forget everything  
My house is empty; every memory blown away_

I slid down the wall in the supply closet next to operating room number one. I hated this. I hated long surgeries that go awry at the last moment. Everything is fine. You close up. You take off your gloves. All of a sudden, the baby's stats drop for no reason at all.

Then, there's nothing you can do. You fight like hell, you tell the baby she has to live. But it doesn't work. She's gone. You can't do anything.

I put my head in my hands, and closed my eyes in the dark. I allowed myself a tear, before asking myself why I was crying. I lose patients sometimes… not every day, but frequently enough that it shouldn't bother me this much.

I'm such a hypocrite. I tell Izzie Stevens that she's not allowed to become attached to her patients, and yet here I am, breaking down in a supply closet, because I lost a baby again.

Unable to make sense of it all, I hugged my knees to my chest and leaned back against the boxes and towels and shut my eyes.

_O__h the sound of the wind through my bones makes me laugh  
At all the bodies I kissed and never knew  
Oh the sound of a lover's sympathy falling down to the floor  
Just barely out of reach from me_

A sliver of harsh fluorescent light appeared on the floor when I opened my eyes. God knows how much time had passed since I shut them. I squinted to make out the figure silhouetted in the doorway.

"We've been looking all over for you," Mark's voice came softly through the dark as he shut the door behind him.

"We?" I asked, worried that there had been an emergency and I'd missed my chance to make up for the surgery that failed this morning.

"Well, me," he admitted. I sniffled in a joyless laugh at this sheepish admission.

He sat down on the floor next to me and put his arm around me. I leaned into him and sighed. It struck me how odd this was. We were never a cuddly couple. It was sex… and then… sleep. There was never any holding each other close and listening to the sound of our breathing, perfectly in time with each other.

This caring, comforting Mark was out of character, "Who are you?" I asked hoarsely, "and what have you done with Mark Sloan; insensitive plastics god?"

He raised his eyebrow when I looked up at him. "I was never insensitive; just a plastics god." I laughed and sniffled, stifling the tears that threatened to spill again at the thought of being so comfortable in his arms. "So, would you like to tell me why I'm sitting with you in a supply closet?"

"I lost a baby," I mumbled.

Luckily for me didn't question my attachment to this child that wasn't my own. He simply put his hand on my head and pulled me close to his chest, where I could listen to his heart beat, "Oh, Addie," he whispered. I breathe in his musky scent and close my eyes. The syncopated rhythm of his heartbeat joining with mine was soothing, and I began to relax.

The door squeaked open a crack, and in came a poor unsuspecting orderly who stopped abruptly. "Sorry," she said awkwardly, "I'll … just… go now." The door shut behind her and we were once again plunged into the darkness that was the supply closet.

I smiled to myself. It was kind of funny, when you think about it from the orderly's perspective. We must be a bizarre sight. Normally in this hospital if you walk in on two people in a supply closet, they're usually going at it. Not sitting on the floor and… cuddling?

"Ready to go?" he asked, thumbing my cheek.

"Not quite," I said smiling at his touching.

"So… want to have sex?"

"Mark!"

_No I will not go back_

_Every word that's been hiding inside of my head is running blindly_

_Look behind me nothings left_

"I'll detach myself," Izzie appeared in the doorway. Her voice was pitched slightly higher than normal. I studied her features for a moment. There was no sadness in her chocolate eyes, only a desperate determination to get what she wanted. I knew that if she had fully intended to detach herself, she would mourn it; not look upon it as simply another task. Ordinarily, her expression alone would have dissuaded me from allowing her another chance.

But I'm a hypocrite. And clearly, I had not yet learned from my mistakes. So maybe my biggest mistake was not letting this run its course. Maybe she needed to fail in a situation that wasn't designed for her to fail. Maybe this was a lesson no one could force upon her; one she had to learn on her own.

So as she stood there, desperation wild in her eyes, I made my decision to let her back on the case. "Really. You're going to detach yourself." I said, crossing my arms in front of me.

She nodded, looking at the floor "Yes, I am." I knew she was lying. It was so blatantly obvious that I had to suppress laughter. Yet, something inside of me forced the thought to the back of my mind, and I allowed myself to invite her back.

"Well, fine then. You're back on the case."

The moment I uttered those words, her face changed. The desperation was wiped away, and replaced by sheer joy. The abrupt change in itself was almost comical to the point of being somewhat frightening. The expression of such happiness was fleeting, however, and was quickly masked – although not quickly enough.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her deliberately sidle over to one end of the NICU, careful not to glance in the direction of Jessie's incubator. She was trying to make me believe that she was not attached. I admit she actually had me going for a moment. I'd thought that as soon as I told her she was back on the case she would have been at Jessie's side. But no… she was taking her time about it.

She checked the chart of one baby and pressed her stethoscope the chest of another. Finally, she stopped at Jessie's incubator and brushed the tiny thumb with her own. "What's going to happen to her?" she asked, shutting the lid.

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I already knew what she was talking about.

"When she's discharged; where will she go?"

I sighed, "Probably into foster care. She'll go up for adoption."

"Oh."

_I can sit in a room  
I can hear myself breathing and be quite amused  
Life is simple like the wrinkles on my skin_

It is amazing how lying face down on a carpet can relax you. The day had been rough, and incredibly long, even for a Friday. Still in my pencil skirt and blouse from work, I was lying on the floor when the door of my apartment clicked open.

"What on earth are you doing?" Mark asked, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Relaxing."

"You are incredibly strange," he set his keys in the dish by the door with a delicate clink, and removed his jacket before sliding down on the floor next to me, pressing his cheek into the soft beige weave. I turned my head to look at him, raising my eyebrows.

"What on earth are _you_ doing?" I asked.

"Lying on the floor with you."

"Why?"

"Because, I'm sensitive," he grinned, eliciting an eye roll from me. "Come here," he grabbed me around my waist and dragged me closer to him. He placed a kiss on my forehead, one on my nose, and finally brushed his lips to mine.

"Mark?" I asked, wiggling my hips against his.

"Mm, yeah, babe?" he managed, his lips still on mine.

"I love you," I whispered. My heart immediately sped up, and I knew I wasn't breathing. What did I just do…

His eyelashes brushed my cheekbone as he blinked slowly. "Addie, breath. I love you too." And he kissed me again; a deep stirring kiss to prove that he meant it. Who else would sit in the dark with you in a supply closet, or lie on the floor with you for no apparent reason other than someone who loved you?

I began to pull myself up off the floor, but he grabbed me tightly around the waist and pulled me back down on top of him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I was going to get changed into something a little less… constricting," I said gesturing to my tight skirt.

"Well, would you like some help getting changed?" he asked.

I laughed, "I'm pretty sure I can get dressed myself."

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said in mock seriousness. He ran his hand up my hamstring, cupping my bum before seizing the zipper and gently sliding it down.

"Mmm, maybe I could use a little help," I teased, straddling him as best I could in my stupid pencil skirt and I popped the top button on my blouse.

"Now then, let's get you out of these clothes."

_Oh the sound of the wind through my heart makes me glad  
For all the ones that never knew my name  
Oh the sound of a lovers sympathy  
I had to go could not stay here  
They were always out of reach from me_

_

* * *

_Only one more day left.  
May 


End file.
